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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28542177">Stay</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335'>mssrj_335</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood Drinking, Blood and Injury, Comforting Poe Dameron, Detective Finn (Star Wars), Detective Poe Dameron, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Finn Needs A Hug (Star Wars), Finn has hangups about his history and the hots for Poe Dameron ok, Finntrospection, First Kiss, Forehead Kisses, Hopeful Ending, How Do I Tag, Human Poe Dameron, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death Experiences, POV Finn (Star Wars), Pining, Purple Prose, Ugh, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Vampire Finn (Star Wars), Vampire Magic, Well - Freeform, i did promise a happy ending tho, i just need someone to take care of finn ok he deserves so much, they're work partners lol, this is NOT part of another urban fantasy short series of mine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:00:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,290</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28542177</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A prompt from RightHereInMyArms:<br/>Something angsty in a way. Finn does not want to bite Poe but ofc he does. In the end I wish for something happy bc I am not capable of having my heart broken again!</p><p>--</p><p>Poe finally looks at him. It’s not the expression he expects. Finn’s looking for anger. Hostility even. For hijacking the conversation with Leia, for running after the homunculi, for ever drinking from him in the first place. Guilt gnaws at him. Shame. But instead he’s met with big doe eyes. Gingerly, Poe reaches across the space between them. Grips his shoulder in a grounding sort of way—is he grounding Finn as he’s done so many times before? Or himself? Finn wonders.</p><p>--</p><p>Finn is gravely injured on a mission and needs blood to survive. Poe offers his, unwittingly drawing out one of Finn's deepest fears.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Finn/Poe Dameron, Finnpoe, Poe Dameron/Finn, Stormpilot - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/RightHereInMyArms/gifts">RightHereInMyArms</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>self-edited, hopefully there's not too many mistakes<br/>this is also kind of an experiment, we just jump right into the action and the universe with little background so hopefully it fleshes itself out enough by the end. i'd love it if you'd let me know if it doesn't</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Finn!” Poe calls out to him—</p><p> </p><p>Too late. Barely time to think—a body barrels into him.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit!”</p><p> </p><p>There’s teeth. Gnashing, dripping teeth—saliva burns his face. Slides down his cheek. Finn’s got the creature by the neck, barely restrained. Which leave its claws free. It rips and tears at him. Splits the skin on his chest as it snaps at him. Christ, it rips a scream right out of him. His own blood splatters in his eyes, his arms shake—can’t get a handle on the homunculus. Not even a foot under it and its stronger than anything he’s ever felt. At this rate, he’s going to be dead <em>for real</em> this time. The thing’s teeth actually manage to nip his jaw, his arms creak with effort—</p><p> </p><p>A shot explodes, echoes through the warehouse and the creature stumbles. Finn’s ears ring. He can’t see, Poe might be shouting his name but he can’t really hear either. All he can do is push as hard as he can. Which isn’t much, considering. Another shot— the homunculus yelps. It’s off. Poe’s definitely shouting something, but it’s all Finn can do to roll away and out of the line of sight.</p><p> </p><p>That must be what Poe’s waiting for. Finn clears the homunculus, wipes the blood from his eyes and finds Poe unloading every shell left in his shotgun. Christ, that’s loud—Finn covers his ears as shots and yelps and noise reverberate off the metal building. Then, there’s silence. Empty ringing silence. He rolls onto his back, chokes on something wet and metallic.</p><p> </p><p><em>Oh, not good</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Finn? Finn!” Poe’s suddenly there, shaking him, holding his face. “Finn, talk to me.”</p><p> </p><p>Blearily, he thinks, <em>Hands…</em>before the hurt really starts to set in. Finn swallows around a scream and the off-taste of his own sluggish blood. He wants to tell Poe to leave, get out before another homunculus shows up, but all he can do is gasp.</p><p> </p><p>“We got ‘em, we got ‘em all. Look at me! You gonna be able to regenerate?” Poe asks frantically. He’s looking a bit blurry; even his voice wavers. “Finn! C’mon now, tell me what to do here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Blood—” he chokes.</p><p> </p><p>Fastest way to fix a vampire’s wounds is to give them blood. It’s basic convert training and it’s the only thing Finn can remember right now. Surely there’s some in the car. Surely he would have brought it. Poe’s eyes go wide. Finn can barely focus, the scent of his friend rising hot in the frigid air.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Also not good.</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>“</em>C’mon, come on, let’s get you outta here.”</p><p> </p><p>Before Finn can even register the words, Poe hefts his least-injured arm over a shoulder and starts dragging him out of the open, empty space. Finn grits around a shout but manages to get his feet under him. Concrete turns to gravel, crunching as they go. The car. Poe’s led them to the squad car. With a groan, Finn eases to the ground, legs splayed wide. <em>Oh, this was such a bad idea. </em>Why did he think chasing rabid homunculi would be a good idea? Too late for it now. He eyes Poe and breathes a bit easier. Not hurt. Poe’s not hurt, except for a bruise blooming on his cheek. Finn sucks in another breath. Breathing is easier now that he’s upright. Something doesn’t feel right though. His breath’s coming too short. His head lolls and catches the scent of something tantalizing, just out of reach. <em>Bad bad bad bad—</em> Poe frantically unlocks the car; Finn can hear him digging around for something but can’t focus on much else. His partner dashes past, cursing into his phone, and the smell hits him.</p><p> </p><p>All the muscles in his body clench and Finn moans.</p><p> </p><p>“Finn, buddy, there’s nothing in the car.” Poe settles at his side, kneeling in the unforgiving gravel. “Let me just—”</p><p> </p><p>Finn stiffens, yanks himself out of Poe’s space so hard his head hits the squad car. “No—call. Call a bus. Hospital.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey! Hey! Take it easy!” Poe scrabbles at his shoulders, trying to grab a spot that isn’t bloody to pull him back upright. “I called ‘em, I did. But you’re gonna bleed out before they get here and I’m <em>not </em>letting that happen.”</p><p> </p><p>Finn shakes his head. He knows what Poe means but—he can’t. Just can’t. Frigid fear creeps down his back like a broken egg. Memories of his own turning flash in his head. The pain—anger. He can’t subject Poe to that, not even at the cost of his own life.</p><p> </p><p>“Stubborn ass,” Poe growls. Finn’s just about wormed out of his grip when Poe jerks him back upright. “Just—” He pulls his sleeve up, his glove down. Yanks Finn back against his chest and shoves his bare wrist under Finn’s nose. “Take some,” he demands. “Take some before I make you.”</p><p> </p><p>Blearily, Finn looks up and over his shoulder. Something in Poe’s voice catches him. A tenderness. Vulnerability. His brown eyes are wide, his breath quick. Fearful. Finn’s heart breaks at what he sees.</p><p> </p><p>“You—you’re scared of me,” he chokes, desperately trying to ignore what Poe’s offering him even as a deep chill starts to set in his limbs and his teeth start to ache. “You’re afraid.”</p><p> </p><p><em>Oh, wrong thing to say. </em>The detective’s hold hardens. “‘m not afraid of you. Don’t wanna lose you.”</p><p> </p><p>Poe’s throat clicks, arms holding tighter even though it smears him in blood. Even though it hurts. It sinks right into Finn’s heart. Pries open his ribs and lays him totally bare. Does he know? Does Poe possibly know what he’d find in Finn’s heart if he went looking? He looks down at Poe's hand splayed over his chest, carefully avoiding any wounds but holding him steady nonetheless. Does he? Yes? Finn swallows. No. That’s just the blood loss talking. Stubbornly, he keeps his mouth shut even though his gaze narrows to the pulse in Poe’s wrist and his teeth prick his gums.</p><p> </p><p>“Finn, please.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s the <em>please </em>that gets him. Poe’s grip around his chest tightens, chin on his shoulder so Finn feels the word vibrate down his ear into his own throat. And the sound of it…soft, pleading. He shoves all thought, all worry to the back of his mind and gingerly takes Poe’s wrist in shaking hands. Hesitates. He’s not really sure what to do—never done this before. He hasn’t fed from a human ever, not even in the early stages of his turning when all he knew were the aches of death and blood mania. Poe coaxes him on, presses the warm skin of his wrist close to Finn’s lips.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure? What if—”</p><p> </p><p>“I trust you,” Poe murmurs in his ear. “Now trust me.”</p><p> </p><p>Finn takes a deep, shaking breath, and bites. It’s the <em>strangest</em> sensation. Like sticking his fangs in butter. But as soon as the taste washes into his mouth, he gasps. Poe behind him sucks a sharp breath in tandem. When he was still human, it would've been awful. Now, he clamps two hands on Poe's wrist and closes his eyes and groans. This is why. This is why vampires still stalk around. Play in their little clubs with human toys or wander through the ages with string after string of willing lovers instead of sucking down a blood bag every week. He takes another pull and his skin starts slowly stitching itself back together. Poe tastes better than anything he's ever had in his life, living or dead. It's terrifying. The salty undertone is cut with something sweet and something pungent, complex and heady each their own—he vastly prefers the sweet. Poe's murmuring nonsense in his ear. Breath coming a bit faster than before. A few more gulps and the pungent taste is almost completely gone, nothing but sweetness left.</p><p> </p><p>"Ok, ok." Poe tugs at Finn's wrists. "Time to stop."</p><p> </p><p>A vicious part of his mind clamps down that much harder. Poe's thumb swipes over the back of his hand, patient but persistent. And slowly, Finn pulls his teeth from Poe's skin. On instinct, he swipes over the punctures with his tongue. Watches, a bit dazed, as the two marks seal themselves.</p><p> </p><p>"There you go," Poe murmurs against his ear. “Perfect.”</p><p> </p><p>Gingerly, he presses Finn back into his chest and all Finn can do is breathe. He hadn't even realized how far forward he'd curled around Poe's wrist until they're flush again and his partner's heart beats against his back.</p><p> </p><p>And Poe just lets him stay like that. Until his wounds finish healing and he feels like he can stand. Maybe he stays in Poe's firm hold a little longer than he should, but eventually he wobbles to his feet. Clears his throat, holds out a hand to help Poe up. Only to be met with the same dazed look that he'd felt himself.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> Poe's pupils are blown wide, cheeks flushed. <em>What is that?</em></span></p><p> </p><p>"You ok?" Poe asks, sounding a little hoarse.</p><p> </p><p>Finn clears his throat again; the detective adjusts his clothes. "Yeah. Fine."</p><p> </p><p>Poe reaches for him again, lips part. The air between them gets tight, Finn braces for whatever Poe is going to say, do, ask—but he's spared. A shrill siren breaks the quiet and flashing lights pull up behind them. Medics pile out; Poe sighs and pulls his hand back. Whatever it is, it'll have to wait.</p><p> </p><p>Man. What a day.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>The hospital doesn't even keep Finn overnight. Poe's little stunt did more to heal him than any bags of blood or saline. They give him one more pouch for good measure and send him on his way. Wounds healed, excepting of course the new sore on his heart. Something he’d cauterized years ago, at the start of their friendship, and tucked away now split back open by the night's events. Poe drives him home in relative silence. There's so much Finn wants to say but none of it comes until Poe pulls up to the curb and cuts the engine. Finn reaches for the door.</p><p> </p><p>"Thank you..." he says haltingly, "for what you did. I'm sorry."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not." Poe smiles at him like he usually does but Finn doesn't miss the way his grip on the wheel tightens. "I'm glad you're alright."</p><p> </p><p>There's a lengthy pause. Finn doesn't get out.</p><p> </p><p>"...Are you? Alright?" Poe prompts gently. When Finn doesn't answer, he bites his lip like he's uncertain of what to do next. "I could stay with you. If you want."</p><p> </p><p>Finn snaps back, terrified. Not of Poe, but of how quickly he wants to say, <em>Yes</em>.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Come inside.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Stay the night.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Stay forever.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>But as much as he wants Poe to stay, he doesn't want him to stay out of pity. So instead Finn takes a deep breath and shakes his head.</p><p> </p><p>"I'll be alright." He unbuckles his seatbelt. Opens the door. "See you tomorrow?"</p><p> </p><p>It comes out a question and he doesn't mean for it to sound as vulnerable as it does. Poe stares at him for a long second. Finn braces. What he doesn’t expect is for Poe to start unbuckling himself and opening his own door.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p> </p><p>“Staying with you.”</p><p> </p><p>Poe ducks out and Finn follows, flabbergasted, heart thudding in a familiar way. “Poe, you don’t have to—”</p><p> </p><p>“I know I don’t have to,” Poe says, muffled as he digs through his trunk. He comes up with a duffel bag that he slings over his shoulders as he says, “But I’m gonna. I—You’re my friend. You’ve been hurt <em>bad.</em> Maybe you’ll be fine, but I’d rather not let anything else happen to you tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>Finn gulps but Poe’s tone doesn’t leave any room for argument. So he follows his partner up to his own apartment. It’s not the first time Poe’s been there—not even the first time he’s stayed over—but it’s certainly the first he’s stayed like…this. Not for a job or to sleep off a long night. Out of concern. And sure, they’re friends. Finn would even go so far as to say good friends. They’ve been on countless investigations, worked together for almost five years. And that’s apart from all the ways Poe’s wormed into Finn’s heart. All the soft touches, late night calls or gentle words. For Finn, there’s always been a tiny question of <em>What if?</em> Sometimes, in the dead of night when he can’t sleep, he thinks there might be more. In fact, watching Poe trudge up the stairs makes him wonder again. Poe pulls his own key—the one Finn gave him—and doesn’t that just flutter in his chest.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t have long to think about it though. They’re barely in the door before Poe’s phone starts ringing. Finn darts into the kitchen—for what, he’s not exactly sure. Poe drops his bag and answers. As soon as he does, he blanches. Finn gulps. Oh, that can’t be good.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, ok, hold on,” Poe says. He lowers the phone, puts it on speaker as he slides onto a barstool. “You’re on.”</p><p> </p><p>And in a split second, a sharp voice shouts, “What the hell were you even thinking?”</p><p> </p><p>Finn flinches, chancing a glance over at Poe. His partner looks about as chagrinned as he feels. Maybe even more so.</p><p> </p><p>“We handled it,” Poe tries.</p><p> </p><p>Finn can almost picture the sour look on the Captain’s face.</p><p> </p><p>“But you <em>didn’t</em>, and that’s exactly my point.” Poe mumbles some objection and pisses Leia off so much Finn’s positive she would actually chuck something right at his head if she were present. “You didn’t!” she hisses. “And now I’m up to my ass in reporters asking about your little swath of destruction. What am I supposed to tell them?”</p><p> </p><p>Finn glances at Poe again and sees that familiar set to his jaw. “You tell ‘em that we got the bad guy and all his little henchmen and saved their asses—again!”</p><p> </p><p>Leia sighs so deep Finn feels it in his bones. “Yes, you did, detectives. No one’s arguing that. But you destroyed one private residence. Shot up a warehouse <em>and</em> killed three unregistered creatures before inspection. <b><em>And</em></b> practically maimed our suspect.” She pauses, hard and calculating. “So tell me what happened.”</p><p> </p><p>“Pretty much what you said.” Poe looks ready to answer but Finn beats him to it. “We followed the suspect Faustly to his house. Followed every procedure for confiscating illegal homunculus creations. Except he freaked the <em>fuck </em>out as soon as we got to the door!”</p><p> </p><p>“He just about killed us <b><em>at</em></b> the door,” Poe adds, nodding along to his point. “<em>We </em>didn’t do anything to destroy the house. Guy had boobytraps set everywhere and the whole thing just kind of backfired on him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right. Poe cuffed Faustly but the magic binders cut him off from the homunculi and they went crazy. I followed them out; they would’ve killed someone. They—” Finn takes a deep breath, stretching some of his new scars uncomfortably. “The last creature just about tore me to pieces. Poe <em>had </em>to follow me, I went on ahead—”</p><p> </p><p>“Finn, that’s not—”</p><p> </p><p>He barrels on, cutting Poe off. “Poe got rid of the last one, patched me up and took me home. There’s nothing more to it.”</p><p> </p><p>Poe sucks in a sharp breath. Finn stares firmly at the phone now, desperate to avoid those eyes. “Going after the puppets was my idea,” Finn says. “If anything, this whole mess is my fault.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a long silence and Finn finds it very, very hard to avoid Poe’s gaze.</p><p> </p><p>“You shouldn’t be back at work for a while,” Leia says at length. “You sound like you’re ready to collapse right now.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m fine.”</p><p> </p><p>A lie. Finn can’t really argue. His limbs all still feel a bit shaky with a weakness he hasn’t felt in years. Not since he was first turned. Blood does wonders but it's not <em>that </em>magical. Perceptive as always, Captain Organa asks, “How’d you regenerate from the damage that quick?”</p><p> </p><p>Finn glances at Poe again but Poe’s pressed his lips into a thin line. Crossed his arms like he’s already closing off. Well, shit.</p><p> </p><p>“Blood bag,” Finn offers lamely. “Had some reserves in the car.”</p><p> </p><p>“So Poe cleaned you up and took you home, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>Finn’s not sure she’s buying it; god knows if anyone could sniff out a lie it would be her. Nose better than a werewolf. Finn makes a vaguely affirmative sound, and Poe doesn’t contradict him. He’s got a <em>look </em>though but Finn’ll deal with it later. Right now, he needs his very human boss to conveniently be left out of the loop. And his very human partner—best friend, in fact—to conveniently forget Finn ever drank from him. Ever. </p><p> </p><p>After a tense moment, Leia lets it go and turns her attention back to Poe.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright you two, I’ll make sure you don’t get smeared. You’re both grounded for a few days.” Like Poe, her tone leaves no room for argument. Maybe that’s where he learned it. “Poe, you stay there for tonight at least. Maybe tomorrow, if you need to. Both of you report in by Wednesday.”</p><p> </p><p>“Already planning on it.”</p><p> </p><p>Finn’s heart jumps.</p><p> </p><p>“Start your report tomorrow. Get some rest.”</p><p> </p><p>And with that, the call ends. Silence rings in the apartment and Finn doesn’t dare break it. What would he say? Where would he even start? Does Poe even want him to talk? <em>Questions, too many questions. </em>Finally, Poe sighs.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you some food?”</p><p> </p><p>Finn’s fangs prick his gums but not because he’s hungry. Does he want to taste Poe again? Yes. Will he? “I’m good.”</p><p> </p><p>“Look, why don’t you hop in the shower?” Poe pointedly doesn’t meet his eye. “Get cleaned up, get some fresh clothes. Go to bed or whatever.”</p><p> </p><p>“What about you?”</p><p> </p><p>Too late Finn realizes that sounds strange to say. Like he’s worried Poe’s going to mess around in his apartment. Or that he wants him to join. Only the latter is true.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna poke around your kitchen. I’ll take a shower after you’re done, ok? Just—” He cuts himself off.</p><p> </p><p>“Just what?”</p><p> </p><p>Poe finally looks at him. It’s not the expression he expects. Finn’s looking for anger. Hostility even. For hijacking the conversation with Leia, for running after the homunculi, for ever drinking from him in the first place. Guilt gnaws at him. Shame. But instead he’s met with big doe eyes. Gingerly, Poe reaches across the space between them. Grips his shoulder in a grounding sort of way—is he grounding Finn as he’s done so many times before? Or himself? Finn wonders.</p><p> </p><p>“I just wanna talk to you,” Poe says. A cold stone drops into Finn’s stomach and Poe seems to sense it. Finn almost jumps when he feels his partner’s thumb rub his bicep. “But not until I’ve had a chance to get a clear head. I wanna make sure I say this right. So go get cleaned up.”</p><p> </p><p>Finn swallows hard but nods. A small sympathetic smile breaks on Poe’s face, like he knows how stressful that all sounds. But he doesn’t let go until Finn pulls out of his grasp. Once in the shower, under hot comforting spray, Finn stews. Rather pathetically, he thinks on Poe's parting words. Hears them echo as he presses his head against cool tiles. <em>What if they mean more?</em> He's making too much of it. Reading too far into Poe's soft voice and softer gaze. Only serving to widen the rift in his heart that much more.</p><p> </p><p>He sighs. Knowing Poe, working with him, it’s all be a tantalizing dream. Something to chase in the dark of night. He could wonder about how Poe’s lips would taste and still carry on having breakfast with him on their days off. But having quite literally had a taste of him has…complicated it. Finn’s stomach burns and he wonders if it’s not Poe’s blood. Eating him alive from the inside out. Water washes away the gore and sweat, leaving behind only an anxious thrum in his veins.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Poe wordlessly trades him for the shower. Smiling gently even though Finn can see the way his teeth clench. Now, there’s nothing to do but wait. That thrum gets a little louder in the quiet of his apartment and Finn fidgets. He goes to the kitchen. Drinks some water. Snacks even though he’s not hungry. Paces at the window. Checks that the doors are locked. All the while trying to block out the sound of the shower and the thought of Poe dripping wet in it. At last, he settles on the couch. He turns the TV on to something rather mindless, just to fill the quiet.</p><p> </p><p>The bathroom door opens with a click.</p><p> </p><p><em>Oh boy</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Poe fresh out of the shower is really…something else. Finn’s breath catches. His hair’s still wet, curling at the ends. Skin pink and flushed. He took his clothes into the bathroom so it’s not as ifhe’s walking around naked. But he might as well be for all the Finn can focus. That small smile makes a reappearance. The detective drops heavily onto the couch beside him and the leather creaks. Oh god, Poe smells like his soap. Like him. Finn’s guts twist in knots. Hands. Finn’s hands find their way into his own lap, tangling; he doesn’t know what to do with them. He feels Poe shift, turning to see him more fully, but he doesn’t turn himself.</p><p> </p><p>“You know,” Poe’s voice makes him flinch, “it’d be much easier to talk to you if I could see your face.”</p><p> </p><p><em>Speak for yourself</em> is what he wants to say. But instead, he just twists wordlessly under Poe’s gaze. Still he stares at his lap, not sure what to expect. Poe sighs out his nose and Finn knows that means he’s frustrated. Doesn’t bring his eyes up any though.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m glad you’re alright,” Poe gently says.</p><p> </p><p>Again, not what he expects. Finn blinks and actually looks up in his confusion. “Are <em>you</em>? Alright?”</p><p> </p><p>There are dark circles under Poe’s eyes, a heaviness on his shoulders, but he nods. “Yeah, just…Finn, why’d you lie to the Captain? We did all that together, why take the fall for it? Why lie about the blood?”</p><p> </p><p><em>Oh, there it is.</em> Finn closes his eyes against it. “It’s a long story,” he hedges.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve known her for a long time; I hate lying to her. She would understand it was a close call. I mean there’s other vamps at the precinct, it’s not the first time it’s happened.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”</p><p> </p><p>When he doesn’t continue, Poe prompts, “But…”</p><p> </p><p>He knows there’s something Finn’s not sharing. Finn’s not sure himself how it happened. Five years of working together, of friendship, and the topic’s never come up. He wanted to keep it that way, but Poe’s ripping it from him. Slowly but surely.</p><p> </p><p>“I—” he halts, voice catching. “I didn’t want anyone to know.”</p><p> </p><p>Poe frowns. Abruptly he seems much sadder. Withdrawing a few inches, he asks softly, “Is it me?”</p><p> </p><p>“No!” Finn jerks up, eyes wide. “No no no, of course not!” Blood sharing is usually reserved for <em>partner</em> partners, not work partners. It <em>is</em> something intimate. To some, something sacred. There's no one he would have rather had, it's just--He takes the space Poe gave up, only to lose a little more when the detective draws back further.</p><p> </p><p>“Then what?”</p><p> </p><p>He takes a deep breath. Poe still wants answers. Finn peeks at him. He’s listening. Leaned forward warily. Finn lets the breath out.</p><p> </p><p>“When I was turned,” he slowly says, “it wasn’t…good. I was attacked. Left out to die. It hurt. Everything hurt. I—I never wanted to…put anyone through that.” He chances a glance up and chokes, “Least of all you.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s more to it—and maybe he’ll share someday—but that’s as far as his tongue will take him. Poe’s frown deepens and he leans in. “You didn’t hurt me,” he says, sensing the heart of the matter before Finn can even speak it.</p><p> </p><p>“I could have. Poe, you don’t <em>know—</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“I know you.” Well, doesn’t that stop him dead in his tracks. “There’s a gentleness in you, Finn.” He longs to protest but the look in Poe’s eyes makes his throat feel tight. “Not because you don’t know violence. You do.” Poe sighs deeply. “I know you do. We deal with it every goddamn day and you’ve had so much it, it just makes me sick.”</p><p> </p><p>He pauses, seeming to gather his thoughts. Finn stares at Poe’s hand halfway between them on the couch. <em>Does he dare reach for it?</em> Poe catches his gaze and reels him in with bone-searing sincerity.</p><p> </p><p>“But…I think that gentleness comes from the abundance of violence, not the absence of it.” Poe’s hand finds his, squeezes it tight. “I see you, working for a little more good, one day at a time.”</p><p> </p><p>Finn’s breath hitches. Poe’s words reach under his ribs, pry them open, lay him bare. “Poe…”</p><p> </p><p>Poe takes his face in his hands. Two pinprick scars in his wrist catch Finn’s eye--a mark, a reminder--but before he can recoil, Poe leans closer still. Shadowed gold in dim yellow light and absolutely beautiful. Slides across the leather until their knees touch. Christ, he’s only a breath away.</p><p> </p><p>“I see who you are, not what the world thinks you might be.” A calloused thumb swipes across his cheek. Dark eyes dip to his lips. He barely murmurs, “I’m not afraid of you.”</p><p> </p><p>Before he can think twice, his hands anchor on Poe’s wrists, just grazing the pulse there. He shivers. His mouth runs away with him and asks, so tentatively, “Can I kiss you?”</p><p> </p><p>Poe doesn’t answer outright. Instead, he closes the tiny distance and presses his lips to Finn’s. Heat blossoms there. Radiating and spreading through Finn’s body. His lungs stutter; he can’t breathe. There had been questions, so many questions. But every one evaporates, lost in desire that rolls through him when Poe’s tongue dips into his mouth. It’s the barest slide but it’s enough to undo him. Poe isn’t afraid of him. He’s here, melting Finn’s fear with the heat of him. A soft sigh lodges in the back of his throat until Poe slides away and drags it out with the pull of his lips.</p><p> </p><p>For a moment, Poe’s eyes stay closed. His teeth scrape his bottom lip; Finn’s brain short-circuits. Breathlessly, he asks, “Can you do that again?”</p><p> </p><p>Poe’s eyes fly open. One smooth motion lands him in Finn’s lap. And <em>oh</em> does he get what he asked for. Poe spreads wide over Finn’s thighs, fingers tangle in his locs. He angles Finn’s head back, hungry. Draws a deep gasp right off his tongue and dives into the space it left. Unconsciously, Finn’s teeth elongate. His hands settle on Poe’s hips. Pressing them together as Poe pulls. They could just merge. Melt together and never part and Finn’s pretty sure he’d be fine with that. And there’s <em>heat</em> everywhere: at the juncture of their hips, at Poe’s hands in his hair. Burning in his mouth where Poe’s tongue finds his. It’s heady. The overlying taste of toothpaste is underwritten by something rich and so unlike what he expected. It’s enough to burn thought right out of him. Then a slip. The point of his tooth catches Poe’s lip and—<em>holy christ</em>. Poe moans even as the smallest taste of blood hits Finn’s tongue. If the detective was sweet before, it’s nothing compared to now. It’s complex. Dizzying.Finn groans, deep in his throat, in his chest. Almost desperate. Sucks Poe’s lip between his teeth, scraping the taste off of him. Too desperate. He realizes it abruptly. Harshly. He shivers. Every inch of him shakes. Is it want? Fear? Something snarled and ragged expands in his chest, tendrils around his heart and squeezes.</p><p> </p><p>“Finn.”</p><p> </p><p>At his name, he gasps.</p><p> </p><p>“Finn, you with me?”</p><p> </p><p>It’s then he realizes—oh, he’s holding too tight. His hands fist in the back of Poe’s soft sleep shirt, arms curled and squeezed around his chest. But Poe just waits. Softly petting his hair, the weight of him grounding and secure. He’s panting. Didn’t realize he was panting. But his face is buried in his partner’s neck, centimeters away from Poe’s pounding pulse. Not even to bite.</p><p> </p><p>No.</p><p> </p><p>To hide.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you need, sweetheart?”</p><p> </p><p>The softness in Poe’s voice leaves him wrecked. He doesn’t know. Has no idea. His fingers flex on Poe’s back, frantically grasping for something he doesn’t know the name of. Part of him wants to go as far as Poe will let him. The other wants to run. Poe presses their foreheads together.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want to stop? I can leave if you need me to.”</p><p> </p><p>That only makes him cling tighter. “No, please don’t go,” he chokes.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok, ok.” Poe rests his cheek on Finn’s forehead instead, implicitly giving him room to breath and makes quiet hushing sounds. “I know bad things have happened to you. But sweetheart, that doesn’t make <em>you </em>bad. I know someone hurt you, but you’re not <em>them</em>. You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re more than what they made you.”</p><p> </p><p>Damn Poe Dameron. Damn all his perceptiveness. All his warm, human kindness. Finn doesn’t cry—he doesn’t—but it’s a close thing. That’s really it, isn’t it? For all that he wants Poe—and wants to <em>be wanted</em>—he’s still so lost. Sometimes the path ahead is so clear. And sometimes it disappears completely. But Poe—Poe’s patience buoys him. For a while, the detective doesn’t say anything at all. Just wraps his arms around Finn’s neck. Cocoons him away from whatever is tearing at him. After a long moment, he goes to pull away. Finn’s grip tightens before he can even think.</p><p> </p><p>“Still not sure?” Poe asks.</p><p> </p><p>Finn’s throat is too tight to answer but he shakes his head at least. And enveloped, he loses track of time. He has no idea how long he stays there, wrapped in Poe wrapped in him. But it’s long enough that the tendrils around his heart recede and he can breathe again. Soon, Poe’s voice vibrates against him in a comforting sort of way when he asks, “You ok?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>His voice is harsh, graveled, but Poe doesn’t seem to notice. He just leans back enough to kiss Finn’s forehead.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on.” He slides from Finn’s lap, leaving him nearly bereft except the hand he still holds. “Let’s get you to bed.”</p><p> </p><p>Wordlessly, he follows Poe to the bedroom. Allows himself to be tucked in and coddle, just because it feels nice. So many unspoken fears still fester in his chest but he doesn’t have the energy to voice them just yet. Only energy enough to say, “I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t be sorry,” Poe murmurs. He leans forward. Squeezes Finn’s hands. Brushes a loc of hair out of his face. “You and me, we’ll figure this out. We’re—we’re good together, I know we are. I’ll help you. Maybe in the morning, maybe after a while. Whenever feels right. But we’ll get it. Together, ok?”</p><p> </p><p>Hope blooms in his heart, tender and fragile. “Yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“Promise,” Poe smiles. With one last squeeze, he goes to leave. “Get some rest, ok?”</p><p> </p><p>Finn watches him go. The room goes dark. <em>God, does he dare ask?</em> Poe’s halfway out the door when the words slip out, “Could you stay?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Stay with me.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Stay the night.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Stay forever.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Poe turns back, silhouetted in the frame with something like relief on his face. “Yeah,” he breathes. “I’d love to.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you to RightHereInMyArms for the endless patience, to TheCarrot and Gmariam19 for feedback<br/>and of course to you for reading</p></blockquote></div></div>
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